Even Angels wear armor
by Glitterberryy
Summary: One-shot. Prompt; Write a short story where the only speech is an argument between two people. (Cue Steve and Danny)


**Here's another quickie I typed whilst my baby napped! Hope you enjoy it! :)**

* * *

**Prompt; Write a short story where the only speech is an argument between two people. **

**(Well, I tried, anyway!)**

* * *

Danny peers down into the sand bunker, watches as Max steps back from their dead suspect to allow Steve access to search for some sort of ID, a wallet, cellphone, or anything that would help tie him to the sex trafficking ring that had just swooped through Oahu, responsible for the disappearance of six local teenage girls and two known murders. He watches as skilled hands skim and pat down arms, torso and legs, and then turns to observe the organised chaos as HPD buzz around the deserted golf course, processing and searching. He wonders how on earth they'd managed to end up with a dead perp and no other leads on the highly sensitive case. He takes a deep breath, can remember all too well the day Grace was taken, has never really allowed himself to imagine the worst possible outcome.

He plays out the past hour in his head, wonders if he'd have done anything different.

HPD had called the car in to Five-0 after matching the Volvo to the APB. Steve had driven – nothing new there – and the quick pullover turned into a high speed chasing involving themselves, Chin on his bike, Kono in her car, and four blue and whites. Eventually, the battered Volvo had run out of gas, and the pursuit continued on foot, Danny and Steve chasing the suspect onto the golf course, everyone else taking the perimeter in hopes of closing in on the guy. What they hadn't anticipated was the gun he'd been hiding in the back of his pants, and he and Steve had to dive behind a large boulder to avoid getting a round in their heads. That's when Steve had pulled his own gun out, popped his head over the boulder, pulled the trigger one, two, three times, and John Doe had fallen back into a sand bunker, dead.

The sound of Steve thanking Max pulls Danny back to present, and he turns to see Steve climbing over the mound to join the Detective.

"Anything?" He asks as he shoves his hands deep into his pants pockets, but the glum look on McGarrett's face already provided the answer. A simple shake of Steve's head, and Danny's lost almost all hope of finding the girls. "Dammit." He mutters, shaking his head, because he can't interrogate a corpse, and if things hadn't turned south, if Steve hadn't just shot the damn guy, maybe Danny could have offered up some sweet deal in exchange for the safe return of the girls - Natasha, Aolani, Miliani, Laura and Becky, because yes, Danny can remember every name, every detail about the girls faces, their hair colour, and what they were wearing when they were kidnapped, because he's a Father, and God dammit he's sworn to find them and bring them home; a promise he's determined to keep.

The Hawaiian sun beats down on Danny's back and sweat rolls down his neck as they both head back for the Camaro, treading over perfectly trimmed, green grass, ducking under yellow POLICE tape, disappointment heavy in the air between them. Steve doesn't speak, and Danny can guess that he's tracing over every detail in his head exactly as he has, over and over.

"God." He finally breathes, the heat relentless, the weight of regret pressing hard on his conscience.

"I know." Steve nods, kicks the driver side tyre as they reach the Camaro, and Danny yanks open the door, allows the festering heat to escape in the hope the car will cool enough before they get in it. Danny shakes his head, can only come up with one conclusion out of this whole situation.

"This is your fault, do you know that?" Danny blames harshly, rolls his shoulders, rocks onto tiptoes and back to his heels again.

"My fault?" Steve repeats, eyebrows shooting up as he leans back against the Camaro.

"Yes. Your fault." Danny nods, one hand freeing from his pants pocket and hovering in front of him, poised and ready for action. "If you had just let me speak to the guy..."

"He didn't come across as in the mood for conversation, Danny." Steve shakes his head, folds his arms across his chest defensively.

"You wouldn't know! You just did the typical McGarrett thing and shot the guy dead. Not even in the shoulder to disarm him. Oh now, Rambo here went straight for the kill shot. Three times, in fact." Danny huffed, as the remaining pocketed hand worms free and joins the other, dancing mid-air.

"It was him or me." Steve shrugged. "Or you."

Danny snorted.

"Maybe if we'd just waited until he'd run out of bullets, we could have talked him down."

"Wouldn't have worked." Steve shakes his head, eyes landing on Chin and Kono in the distance, heading towards them.

"Sorry McPsychic, didn't realise you could tell the future." Danny scoffs, reaches up to wipe away a bead of sweat on his forehead.

"Okay, Detective, what would you have done differently? Please, enlighten me." Steve asks pointedly, and Danny seems to ponder that before answering.

"Okay." He nods, a couple of seconds later. "Here's what I would have done differently." Uses his hands to create a visual scenario. "I'd have kept my head low, because eventually John Doe would have run out of bullets and stopped firing at us. Then, I'd have tried to talk him down, soften him up a bit, maybe offer a one time deal of freedom in exchange for the location of our missing girls. And then, I'd arrest him." A shrug. "Or I'd wait for HPD to back us up, and then let them arrest him, interrogate him back at headquarters, you know, follow proper_ police procedure_."

"You'd have bored him to death." Steve bristles. "My way was more humane."

"Your way has risked the lives of six young teenagers!" Danny's hands flail, his face reddens a little. "That's six Grace's!"

"He wasn't going to talk, Danny. We'll find another way. Don't make this harder by making it personal." Steve stands to greet Chin and Kono as they approach them, but Danny has no intention of dropping the subject, and even the cousins can recognise Danny's 'rant face', so don't make an attempt to speak over him.

"How do you know he wouldn't have talked? I'm trained for situations like this." Danny asks as Steve turns back to him. "And how are you _not_ making it personal?"

Steve opens his mouth, and then closes it, because Danny has a point; this case is very personal, reminds him of the day Grace was taken, but it's Danny's job to be the over emotional father, the one that promises to bring the girls home even though he knows it's the wrong thing to do, and it's Steve's job to stay indifferent, to tap in to his SEAL training and just turn the emotions off to get the job done.

"You really think he'd have listened to you? Told you everything?" He eventually asks.

"I would have at least liked to have tried." Danny nods, slams one hand into the other to punctuate each word.

"Okay." Steve nods. "Well, you know where he is, help yourself."

"He's dead.

"He's still our suspect."

"A _dead_ suspect." Danny counters. "I can't interrogate a corpse, Steven. Talking to the dead is Max's forte, anyway."

"I don't know what you want me to say. I'm not going to apologise for saving you." Steve stares at Danny, watches the anger in his eyes dim a little as he folds his arms back across his chest.

"I just want you to realise that you can't go around shooting at people." Uses one hand as a mock gun firing randomly.

Steve seems to consider that for a moment, before nodding.

"Okay."

"Okay?" Danny repeats, eyes narrowing, suspicious of his partners sudden compliance.

"Okay." Steve confirms.

"Alright then." Shrugs a little.

"Now that the lovers tiff has ended, guys, look what we found." Kono finally says, holds up a clear, plastic evidence bag with a cell phone in it. "Guess John Doe tossed it the second you jumped behind that big rock."

"Great, let's get it back to HQ, see what we can pull from it." Steve orders, doesn't miss the way Danny's back straightens, his shoulders square. "We'll meet you back there." Chin and Kono don't need telling twice, as they turn and hurry over to their own vehicles, because time is of the essence on a case like this one. Steve pulls the Camaro's keys from his pocket as Danny heads around to the passenger side.

"Oh, and by the way, Steven. You did _not_ save me. I can look after myself, thank you very much." Danny quips, before collapsing into his seat and closing the car door.

"Oh, I know." Steve grins, sliding in behind the wheel, putting the keys in the ignition and the car in gear. "The bullets would have flown straight over your head anyway."

"That's low, Steven. Height jokes are so not cool." Danny retorts, tries and fails to keep the amusement from his tone. Steve laughs as he speeds away from the scene, Kono and Chin close on his tail, because Danny has made a promise to six different sets of parents and Steve intends to make sure he keeps it.


End file.
